Love Through The Seasons
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: Patrick Jane is back and he's ready to court Teresa Lisbon properly. Over the year, their love and friendship grows into something completely beautiful. Sequel to "Love At The Christmas Eve Table", AU. Rated T. Jisbon.
1. I Always Knew Love Would Grow

**Love Through The Seasons**

**A Jane & Lisbon Story**

**By Brown Eyes Parker**

**Author's Note:**

**Here I am again with a sequel to "Love At The Christmas Eve Table". I couldn't get the lines **_**I want to court you properly**_** out of my head, so I came up with this story. You don't really need to read my first story to get the idea of what's happening. Chapter title from "Evergreen" from a Star Is Born.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Rated: T  
.**

**Chapter 1 I Was Always**__**Certain Love Would Grow **

_January _

Teresa Lisbon couldn't take her eyes off of Patrick Jane. She still couldn't that believe he was with her in _January_, that he was sitting across from her and that they were listening to Barbra Streisand's _A Star Is Born _record while they were sharing an ice cream sundae.

"What are you thinking about?" Patrick asked, breaking into her thoughts as he stole her cherry.

"How much my mother loved this song," Teresa answered. "And how I can't believe you're actually here with me right now. I'm afraid that I'll wake up and find out that it's Christmas Eve and I've dreamed this whole thing."

Patrick dropped his spoon into the dish and leaned across the table to give her an awkward kiss on the mouth. He pulled back and shrugged, a grin erupting on his beautiful face. "I don't know Reese, this seems pretty real to me."

Teresa smiled at him, framed his cheeks with her hands and kissed him again, reveling in the taste of chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream on his lips, in the way they were warm and soft, and so real beneath her's. She nodded. "You're right, it does seem pretty real."

"Are you anxious?" He asked.

"Anxious?" She repeated, frowning and removing her hands from his face. "How could I be anxious when I've waited for you for so long? _This_ is exactly what I want, what I've always wanted. Are you. . . _anxious_?"

"I'm only anxious that I'll mess this up," Patrick replied. "I'm not really good at this whole. . . this whole relationship thing. You're the first girl that I've really been serious about pursuing."

"You're the first boy that I've ever let pursue me," Teresa told him as she took his hands in her own, lowering her voice to a whisper. "We'll be bad at it together, okay?"

Patrick nodded, looking her straight in the eyes. She looked away, whenever he did that she got the distinct feeling that he had the unfair advantage of seeing straight into her soul and her most intimate thoughts. She jumped up and whisked the half-eaten ice cream away from the table.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

"Fine," Teresa answered, plopping the dish in the sink and shutting off the Barbra Streisand record, she inserted a mixed tape into her tape player and turned the volume up. She turned around to find him right in front of her. "Everything's fine, just fine—"

"Good," Patrick whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and pushing her against the counter.

She sighed inaudibly and wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes fluttering shut as he assaulted her mouth with a dozen tender kisses. "Patrick. . ." she said.

"I have to go now," he said breaking away reluctantly. "Charlotte only goes to bed for me."

Teresa released a deep breath and nodded. "I know."

He kissed her again, quickly this time. "Do you want to go on a real date with me?"

"A real date?" Teresa repeated, raising her eyebrows.

"You know, that thing where two people go out in public together and see a movie or something." Patrick told her. "I told you that I wanted to court you properly, Teresa. So, what do you say? Are you game for dinner and a movie tomorrow night?"

Teresa nodded. "Yes."

"Good! I'll pick you up at six then," Patrick said, kissing her one more time. "Sweet dreams my love."

"Goodnight Patrick," Teresa answered, hiding her smile as he left her leaning against the counter.

If she were any less mature, she would have jumped around the kitchen and then called all her girlfriends to squeal about it with them. Instead she smoothed her hair out and proceeded to clean up the ice cream mess.

**.**

The next night, Teresa was waiting by the door for him to pick her up. She wouldn't admit it to anybody, but she had spent an extra hour doing her hair and picking out her outfit. She knew that it was a few years too late to make a good impression, but she still wanted to look her prettiest for him.

The doorbell rang at six on the dot, she jumped up and grabbed her coat, glancing in the mirror one more time before she answered it.

"Hey Patrick," Teresa said, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Hey Reese," Patrick replied, leaning in and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Could I help you with your coat?"

"Um, sure. . ." Teresa answered, handing it to him.

"I know you're not used to letting people help you out," Patrick said, slipping it over her shoulders and pulling her hair out. "But my father says that this is the right way to pursue a woman, so. . . you'll have to help me by letting me help you."

Teresa hid her grin as she buttoned her coat and turned around to look at him. "I'll try."

"Good," Patrick said, unable to resist stealing a quick kiss on the lips.

"Didn't your dad tell you that you're not supposed to kiss a girl until the end of the date?" Teresa teased.

"Sure," Patrick answered. "But it doesn't count for me, not when I've already kissed you."

"I thought you wanted to court me—"

"Shut up," Patrick said, pulling her in for another kiss.

Teresa laughed and struggled out of his grasp to lock the door. "If the date goes really well, you can kiss me at the end of the night."

"That might be a problem," Patrick told her. "I can't help but kiss you, I feel like I'm making up for lost time."

Teresa took his gloved hand in her own. "Am I driving tonight since you still haven't gotten your driver's license yet?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Teresa answered. "I actually planned on it."

"Thanks," Patrick replied, smiling at her gratefully. "So, I hope you like pizza. Aunt Amy recommended this little place downtown."

"I know it very well, it's one of my favorite places to get dinner."

"Thank you Aunt Amy," Patrick said. "So, does this mean that I'll get to kiss you good night?"

"It depends," Teresa teased. "The night is still young."

**.**

The night went extremely well. He let her order anything she wanted off of the menu and then he took her to a scary movie, where he tried – unsuccessfully – to distract her from the horror that was unfolding in front of them. He knew she didn't particular like the choice of film (she preferred romantic comedies), but she was determined to stick it out unlike the rest of the young ladies in the theater, who were making out with their boyfriends or cowering in their shoulders, stealing an occasion peek at the screen.

When the date was over, he walked her to the door and waited for her to unlock the door.

Teresa turned around and looked at him, her smile a teasing one. "Well, goodnight. I had fun tonight, thank you—"

His mouth dropped open. "I can't kiss you?"

"Didn't your father tell you?"

"Tell me what!?"

"That you don't kiss on the first date," Teresa answered.

"But what if it was a really good first date?" Patrick asked.

"Well, sometimes a girl _does_ make an exception to the rule. . ."

"Are you one of those girls?" Patrick asked.

"I don't know," Teresa answered, opening the door. "I've never been in that kind of situation before. Good night Patrick."

Patrick stood on the porch, trying to figure out what had happened exactly when she came back outside and kissed him soundly on the lips. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, a strange sense of relief filling him.

She pulled away and laughed. "Boy, I really had you going there for a minute."

"Did not," Patrick lied.

Teresa winked. "Suuuuure. Goodnight Patrick."

"Goodnight Teresa," Patrick answered, grinning as he pulled his coat a little closer and kissed her one more time.

**TBC. . .**

**Author's Note II:**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the first installment in my sequel for "Love At the Christmas Eve Table". I'd love to hear your thoughts about this, so please leave a review. Have a safe and happy New Year! Thank you to all my readers for making 2013 a good writing year.**

**Love,**

**Holly, 12/31/2013**


	2. Nothing Makes Me Stronger

**Shout-Outs: AngryLittlePrincess, Guest, tikismile, phoenixmagic1, Marcia Santos, Dempeo4ever81, Jane Doe51, and Elc41**

**Rated: T**

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title comes from "Turning Page" by Sleeping At Last. It's definitely the theme song for this whole world I've created.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**.**

**Chapter 2 Nothing Makes Me Stronger Than Your Fragile Heart**

_February_

"But what are you doing for Aunt Amy for Valentine's Day?" Patrick asked.

"I dunno," Alex Jane answered. "I haven't really thought about it that much."

"Dad! Valentine's Day is in _one_ week!" Patrick said.

"I know," Alex replied. "I just haven't really figured out what to do yet."

Patrick gaped at his father and then he laughed. "Dad, you are _so _going by the seat of your pants with this!"

"And you're supposed to be the Boy Wonder!" Alex retorted. "What's taking _you_ so long to figure out what to do for your girlfriend? Somebody like you, you could have this planned a solid month ago."

"Just because I can cold read a cheating husband doesn't mean I understand everything about women!" Patrick told his father. "You know women better than I do—"

"Hardly," Alex interjected. "I've been pretending this whole time."

Patrick scoffed. "I don't believe it! I've seen you charm girls of all ages into giving you the proverbial shirts off their backs!"

"That doesn't mean I'm a lady's man," Alex answered. "Women, Patrick, are like accordions. They're extremely hard to figure out; you need to know exactly the right buttons to press. All of this time, I've been faking it while hoping that I get out alive."

Patrick looked at his father like he was just seeing him for the first time. "But you've always been so confident—"

"But I never loved any of my conquests, Patrick. They were just that, _conquests_, when it comes to things that really matter. . . to the woman I really cared about, I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean, it took _you_ proposing for me to realize that Amy was the one I wanted. If _you_ hadn't acted on the feelings you knew I had then I would have never married her or settled down. When the risk is too great, I run scared."

"That's not always true," Patrick told him. "You didn't run scared with me and raising a child, they say, is the greatest risk of all."

Alex smiled. "Oh Patrick, I didn't even know what I was doing with you. If I did. . . if I had been a better father then I would have married your mother and settled down in a house with a picket fence instead of raising you in a trailer. You see son, I am nothing but a clueless fool. Don't ask me for advice about what to do for your girl on Valentine's day. You're the romantic one, maybe you're the one who should be telling _me_ what to do for Amy."

Patrick sighed. "I dunno. This is my first Valentine's Day with Teresa as a couple, I mean I used to send her a postcard and it would be fine. But this year, this year I want to sweep her off her feet."

Alex laughed. "If I do know _one_ thing Patrick, it's that you don't need to sweep Teresa Lisbon off of her feet. You already did _that_ a long time ago."

"Yes, but I want to be aware of it this time."

Alex patted his son on the shoulder. "Well, you'll think of something without my help. I'm sure of it."

"Thanks dad," Patrick said, smiling at him. "I'm sure that you'll think of something too."

**.**

"Ready to go?" Patrick asked a few days later as she opened the door for him, already dressed in her winter coat and gloves.

"Hold on a second!" Teresa answered, grabbing him by the collar of coat and giving him a sound kiss on the lips. She smiled, her eyes still closed. "Happy Valentine's Day Patrick."

"Oh. . . _right_!" Patrick said, kissing her in return. "Happy Valentine's Day Reese, I love you."

Teresa beamed. "I love you too," she replied, pulling the door shut behind her and locking the door.

"You're going to love what I have planned for tonight," Patrick told her as he secured her hand and they walked down the front porch together.

"Oh really?" Teresa looked at her skeptically. "And what is it that you have planned for tonight exactly?"

"Nothing but the best for my favorite girl," Patrick answered. "I promise that it won't be anything too over the top."

"It better not be," Teresa answered. "If it is, I'll kill you and make it look like an accident."

"You're joking, right?" Patrick asked.

"Just slightly," Teresa replied, smiling at him sweetly.

"Come on," Patrick said, steering her in the direction of her car. "I promise that tonight isn't anything too over the top, we'll both still be alive by the end of the night."

"You know, we don't really have to do this!" Teresa told him. "We're still a relatively new couple. Tonight should be simple, just you and me and maybe a pizza. We'll have plenty of time for romantic Valentine's Days."

Patrick turned to look at her. "Is that what you really want to do? To stay in tonight and order a pizza?"

"It'll be perfect, we can eat dinner on the floor and listen to Nina Simone. . . and be together, just the two of us."

Patrick laughed. "Okay then, we'll just stay in and order pizza."

"But what about your special plans?" Teresa asked.

"Sweetie, I didn't have anything really special planned. We were just going to have dinner and go see a movie. I wracked my brains to come up with something special for you, I drew a blank each and every time. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Teresa replied, leading him back up to her house. "Come on, I'll handle the whole thing."

**.**

Teresa shrugged out of her coat and hung it up in the hall closet. Patrick took a moment just to take her in as she kicked her boots off and wandered off towards the living room. The house filled with the sounds of jazzy blues and a second later, she returned.

She leaned against the doorframe and attempted her best sultry look. "Hello Patrick."

Patrick smiled at her, unbuttoned his heavy coat and tossed it on the chair near the door. "Hi," he replied, approaching her and framing her face with his hands.

Teresa closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, an open invitation for him to kiss her. He did, as soon as their lips touched he forgot all about pizza and picnics on the living room floor. All he wanted to do was. . . but he couldn't entertain thoughts like that. They both weren't ready for_ that_. . .

He extracted himself from her arms and took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'll go order dinner. Are the take out menus still on the side of the fridge?"

"Of course," Teresa answered, trying hard to hide her disappointment. "Order whatever you want, I'm going upstairs to find our old picnic blanket. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, she came into the kitchen with an old, plaid blanket draped over her arm.

"I ordered plain, I know it's strange, but I still don't know what kind of pizza you like after all these years. And growing up in the carnival, I never had a decent slice of pizza. The stuff they served at the concession stand was frozen and tasted like cardboard."

Teresa smiled at him. "Well then, plain cheese pizza is the perfect introductory choice to good pizza. But for future reference, I'm a pineapple pizza kind of girl."

"Thanks for telling me," Patrick said, coming towards her and giving her a chaste peck on the lips.

"Hey guys!" A masculine voice said, causing them to pull away quickly and look towards the kitchen doorway.

Joseph was standing there, smiling goofily at the pair, a cute blonde with a faint dusting of freckles was standing beside him.

"Joseph!" Teresa scolded, putting a hand on her chest as she tried. "You and Cecily are _supposed_ to be at the library preparing for a project on Friday."

Joseph rolled his eyes. "We were, but then I remembered I forgot a book that was due yesterday. So, we came back to get it. Cecily, this is my sister's boyfriend Patrick. Patrick, this is Cecily. . . my project partner."

Cecily smiled. "It's so good to meet you finally. Joey talks about you all the time."

"Nice to meet you too," Patrick answered, turning to look at her.

"Sorry that we interrupted your date," Cecily said, plucking at the hem of her red sweater as Joseph disappeared upstairs to retrieve the offending library book from his room."

"It's okay," Teresa assured her. "It wasn't your fault, Joey can be a bit dense at times. Or a little too much of a busybody, you decide which one better applies to him. So, are you and Joey going to be studying all night?"

The younger girl shrugged and plucked at her sweater again. "I was hoping we might be able to go and share a root beer or something afterwards. But you know. . . Joey only looks at me as a friend. I'm pretty sure that he won't want to take me out on Valentine's Day of all days. . ."

"Well, you never know until you try," Teresa encouraged. "You know that Valentine's Day isn't _just_ for lovers and couples. It's for friends and siblings too. In fact, Joey and I gave each other cards at breakfast this morning."

"Back!" Joseph announced, looking at his sister and his friend suspiciously. "What were you two talking about while I was gone?"

"Nothing!" Cecily replied quickly, grabbing him by the sleeve. "Come on Joey, we've intruded on your sister and her boyfriend's evening long enough."

"Have a good rest of your evening!" Teresa called after the both of them.

"Be good!" Joseph called back, laughter bubbling from his lips as the front door slammed shut.

"So, Cecily and Joseph—?" Patrick asked.

"Their friends," Teresa answered, starting for the living room.

He followed her and took one end of the picnic blanket. _"But?"_ he prodded.

"Cecily likes Joseph as more than a friend," Teresa replied, shaking her head. "I'm surprised you didn't pick that up, _Boy Wonder_."

"I did," Patrick told her. "I just wanted to hear you say it. Joseph likes her too, you know."

"Well, I _hoped _he liked her," Teresa admitted, settling down on the blanket. "But Joseph hardly ever tells me anything, I wasn't so sure I'd imagined the whole thing."

Patrick joined her, sprawling out on his stomach and resting his chin in his hand. He looked up at her and grinned. "Well, he _does_ like her. You and Cecily just have to be patient with him, it takes us men a little longer to come around than it does you women."

"Don't _I_ know it though," Teresa replied, patting his cheek affectionately.

"Isn't it worth it when we eventually come around?"

Teresa pretended to think about it for a moment and then she nodded. "Yes, it is."

"I promise if Joseph knows what's good for him then he won't let Cecily go. He'd be a fool to do that. If he does, he might wind up with a Tiffany."

Teresa shook her head. "_One_ Tiffany in the family is too much. The only good thing about her is Annabeth."

"Yeah," Patrick took her hand with his free one. "So, tell me what made you want to stay in tonight and have pizza? Especially since you got so dressed up. . ."

"It's silly," Teresa said.

"No it isn't," Patrick whispered. "Come on, tell me why you wanted to stay in tonight."

Teresa sighed. "My parents celebrated their first Valentine's Day together in the same way. Except it was because their plans had been ruined by a giant snow storm and my mom made pizza from scratch."

"But the rest. . ." Patrick trailed off.

"The picnic on the living room floor, the Nina Simone records. . . it was all part of their first date." Teresa lifted the pearls she was wearing. "Even the way I'm dressed tonight is similar to the way she was dressed that night."

"Oh. . ."

"Patrick, you have to promise me something."

"Anything," Patrick answered.

"You can't love me as much as my father loved my mother. If anything happens to me, I don't want you to sink into a deep despair. Especially if we're married and have kids, you need to be there for them. No child deserves to. . . to—"

"Nothing's going to happen to you," Patrick said.

"You don't know that," Teresa whispered. "I'm going to be a cop, anything could go wrong in that field of work."

Patrick shook his head and pulled her down on the floor next to him. "Don't talk like that. We're going to have a long, fulfilling life together. We're going to get married and make love every night, and we'll have kids. We're going to take them to Christmas Eve at the Minelli's house and we're going to grow old together. We'll remind each other to take our medicine on time and on Sunday's after church, we'll go for walks in the park. People are going to envy our lives. We'll be the lucky ones Teresa. But I promise, because I know you won't be settled until I do, that if anything happens to you then I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to deal with the hardships you have endured in your lifetime."

"Thank you," Teresa whispered.

"But I'm not thinking like that," Patrick said, lacing is fingers through her hair. "Like I said, I'm imagining we'll have a long life together."

"Everybody imagines that," Teresa replied. "And they're never prepared for the bad stuff when it—"

He shut her up with a kiss. "The doorbell's ringing. I think our pizza's here," he said after a few moments.

"Okay," Teresa said.

"I'll pay for it," Patrick told her, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his wallet.

**.**

After they'd consumed the whole pizza and shared a few slow dances, it was time for Patrick to go home for the evening. Teresa walked him to the door where he kissed her goodnight more than once. When he finally pulled away, he caressed her cheek with his thumb and smiled at her.

"I need you to promise _me _something before I go. Promise me that you'll only entertain good thoughts tonight, okay?" He whispered. "No more negative thoughts about something that hasn't even happened yet."

"Okay," Teresa agreed, kissing him one more time.

"Thank you," Patrick said, tweaking her nose. "I love you."

"I love you too," Teresa replied.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Author's Note II:**

**An abrupt ending, I know. And a lot of this chapter probably didn't make sense. I worked on it at all different times and today has been less than stellar. Anyways, tell me what you thought in a review. While you do that, I'm going to write a fluffy one-shot that takes place in the actual Mentalist universe.**

**Love,**

**Holly, 1/6/2013_**


	3. The Warmth Within Your Touch

**Shout-Outs: Colourful Glitter, Dempeo4ever81, Jane Doe51, and Marcia Santos **

**Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.**

**.**

**Chapter 3**

_March_

Teresa woke up, gasping for breath and grappling for the phone on her nightstand. In the dark, she dialed Amy's number with shaking fingers. She waited for what seemed like an eternity and then, his voice came over the line.

"Patrick," she breathed.

"Reese?" He asked. "Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I'm-I'm fine," Teresa answered, sitting up and turning the lamp on. "I just had a bad dream. . . I needed to make sure—"

"I'm fine," Patrick assured her. "Listen, I'm going to come right over. Okay?"

"Oh you don't have to. . . it's late and bitter cold outside, and—"

"I know that I don't _have_ to come over Teresa, I _want_ to. I'll be right there."

The phone clicked off, signaling that arguing wasn't an option. Teresa sighed as she put her own phone back on the receiver and got out of bed so she could go downstairs and be by the door when Patrick showed up. A few minutes later, she was wrapped up in his arms as he whispered words of love and gentle reassurance in her ear. She collapsed against him, trembling as she tried to explain the dream to him. He shushed her, knowing exactly what it was about without her having to tell him a thing.

When the nightmares were far from her mind, he brought her into the kitchen and made chamomile tea, he poured the brew into two mugs and then sat down, handing one of the drinks to her.

"When I was younger and I used to have nightmares, Sam would make chamomile tea to help me get back to sleep. It's very soothing."

Teresa nodded and took a long sip, closing her eyes as the honey-sweetened liquid went down her throat. She took a deep breath and toyed with her cup. "I dreamed that you were dying. There was blood. . . so much blood, and I couldn't save you. No matter what I did, I couldn't save you."

"I know," Patrick answered, covering her cold hand with his warm one. "It's going to be okay, I'm safe."

"I know," Teresa replied, mustering a smile.

They sat in silence after that, drinking their tea and holding hands. When she was finished, he put the dishes in the sink and led her up the stairs to her bedroom. When she had climbed into the twin bed, he slid in beside her and pulled her up against him.

"You don't have to stay you know. The bed is barely big enough for me," Teresa told him, her voice muffled by his chest.

"I know," Patrick answered. "But I want to, you're scared and upset, and I don't want you to be alone when you're like that."

"Why?" Teresa asked. "I've been alone since I was twelve."

"I know," Patrick told her quietly. "And I hate it, you don't know how much I wish I could have been there for you. How I wanted to hold your hand when you had to go to the hospital for your injuries. How I wanted to be there to hold you when you cried, to protect you from your father. . ."

"But you're here now," Teresa replied.

"So, let me be here for you right now. Please."

"Okay," she finally agreed. "But you better not try any funny stuff."

Patrick laughed and pulled her closer. "I wouldn't dare."

She smiled and nestled in beside him, feeling wonderfully safe and warm with him beside her. When she finally fell asleep again, there weren't any nightmares just wonderful dreams of a future with the boy she had loved since before she knew what love really was.

**.**

Teresa woke up the next morning with her hair tangled, her arm thrown over Patrick's face, and a crick in her neck. She sat up and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, she looked around her room and tried to focus on her alarm clock.

Ten 'o clock.

"Patrick," she whispered loudly, hitting his chest. "Patrick, wake up!"

"Five more minutes Sam," he muttered, turning over on his stomach.

"You don't have five minutes," Teresa said. "It's ten in the morning. I bet your father and aunt are wondering where you are."

"Barely," Patrick answered, opening one eye to look at her. "I left them a note and told them where I was going. I don't think they'll think we did anything. You're a good girl, they know you wouldn't let anything happen."

Teresa sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears as she shook her head. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"I could eat," Patrick replied, sitting up and adjusting his sweatshirt. "How about you get ready for the day and I'll go see what you have for food?"

"Sounds good to me," Teresa agreed. He sat up and leaned in to give her a kiss, but she stopped him. "Don't kiss me until I get to brush my teeth."

He pecked her cheek and grinned at her cheekily as he got out of her bed and retrieved his shoes from beside the bureau. "I like this, waking up with you, it feels right."

Teresa nodded and grabbed the clothes that she had laid out the night before. "It does feel right, doesn't it? Go on now, I'll be downstairs in a few minutes. I just need to take a quick shower and brush my teeth. There's pancake mix in the pantry and six eggs left, but that's about it. I need to make a trip to the grocery store."

"I'll see what I can do," Patrick said, running his fingers through his hair and pecking her cheek again as they passed each other on their way out the door.

**. **

While she showered, Patrick made breakfast and started a grocery list. A little while later, she came downstairs with her hair wrapped up in a towel and a dove gray turtleneck sweater tucked into worn jeans.

"It's my errand day," Teresa explained when she noticed him looking at her outfit. She peeked into the oven. "Smells good. Where'd you learn to cook?"

"Sam," Patrick answered. "She told me if I was going to be a man worthy of any women then I would learn to cook. And so, I did. It was pretty hard too because we didn't have a proper kitchen most of the time."

Teresa laughed and sat down at the table as she pulled the towel off of her head and rubbed her wavy hair with it. "What else can you do?"

"The laundry, the organizing, the dishes," Patrick ticked off. "Just to name a few things."

"You're going to be the perfect husband," Teresa commented.

"I can also get all the snarls out of your hair," Patrick told her.

"Is that an invitation?" Teresa asked her comb poised on a particularly tangled section of her hair.

"Yes," Patrick answered, coming over and taking the comb out of her hand. He started to gently comb her hair and hum a song.

Teresa closed her eyes and released a deep breath. "I haven't had anybody brush my hair in a long time."

"I'll brush your hair whenever you'd like me to," Patrick told her. "I don't mind."

Teresa smiled and moved her head slightly to look up at him. "Thank you."

Patrick returned her smile and didn't reply. When he finished combing her hair, she went back upstairs to dry it and he finished making their breakfast. He poured her coffee in a mug and had it prepared for her just the way she liked it when she reappeared.

"Do you want to go food shopping with me?" Teresa asked when they had finally sat down to breakfast.

"Sure," Patrick answered. "I'll have to run home and tell my aunt where I'm headed for the day, but after that I'm all yours."

"I'll come with you," Teresa said, playing with a strand of hair. "And then we can just leave from there, if you'd like."

Patrick nodded and sipped at his Earl Grey tea. "Sounds good to me," he replied.

"Well, isn't this just the most domestic thing that you've ever seen?"

Teresa looked up from her breakfast. "Tommy, what are you doing here?"

"I came over to see if you'd mind watching Annabeth today," Tommy answered. "But I can see that you've got other things going on. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Teresa rolled her eyes and pushed away from the table. "You know I _always_ watch Annabeth when you ask me to. Today won't be any different, Patrick and I were just having breakfast together and then we were going to run some errands. But she can come with us."

"I'll even bring Charlotte so she can have some company," Patrick added, giving Tommy a look that told him not to stir up trouble.

"Fine," Tommy said. "She's in the car, I'll just go and get her."

"Thomas! You know better than to leave a kid in the car, the weather is frigid!"

Tommy rolled his eyes this time. "I left the car running, don't get your panties in a bunch Reese!"

Teresa got up from her seat and pushed past her brother, grabbing her coat from the closet. "Where's Tiffany anyways?"

"Sleeping off the effects of last night's late night partying," Tommy answered. "I have to go to work, otherwise I would _have_ stayed home with Annabeth and Tiffany."

Teresa just shook her head and pulled the door open. "Really, you could have called before you came over."

"Why?" Tommy asked, following her outside. "Were you and Patrick doing things that you'll need to confess about to the priest tomorrow?"

Teresa flushed crimson. "Not that it's any of your business, we weren't! But I was planning on going out and food shopping. What would have happened if I hadn't been here when you stopped by?"

"I don't know, maybe I would have taken her to the Minelli's house."

Teresa stopped and looked at him, shaking her head again. "When are you and Tiffany going to take responsibility for your lives, little brother?"

Tommy looked at her angrily and opened his mouth to retort, when she threw her hands up in the air before opening the car door and scooping Annabeth out of her car seat. "Never mind! When do you think you'll be around to pick her up?"

Tommy shrugged. "Later."

"You know what? I'll just keep her for the night; you can get her at church in the morning."

"Might not be at church in the morning," Tommy said. "It depends on how Tiffany's feeling."

Teresa swallowed down a reply about his wife and grabbed Annabeth's diaper bag. "Do you have lunch? I could go and—"

"I have lunch Teresa," Tommy answered. "When are you going to realize I'm practically a grown man and stop mothering me?"

"When you start acting like a grown man," Teresa told him, stepping backwards and looking him over. "I'll see you later. . . I-I love you."

Tommy grunted in response, slammed the back seat door, hopped into his car and sped off, leaving Teresa to watch him go. Patrick showed up on the porch and called her back inside to finish breakfast. She came, allowing him to take Annabeth from her and close the door behind them.

He touched her shoulder when they were inside. "He'll come around eventually. It's just growing pains," he told her.

"I hope you're right," Teresa replied, rubbing her temples wearily.

"Come on," Patrick said, kissing her gently, squishing a squealing Annabeth between them. "Let's go and distract you."

"What would I do without you?" Teresa asked, touching his cheek. "You've been great these past few hours. I—"

"It was my pleasure," Patrick interjected. "I love you, and when you love somebody you do these kinds of things for them. I know you'd do the same thing for me."

"I would," Teresa agreed.

"Well then," Patrick said, stealing another kiss. "I don't think we need to talk about it anymore."

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Author's Note:**

**This chapter was murder to write, so I apologize for the abrupt ending. I just wanted to post something because it's been a couple weeks since I have. At first I wasn't even sure what I was going to do with this chapter, and then when I finally had an idea it kept changing scenarios on me. Anyways, enough excuses. Tell me what you thought. I'll try to update sooner this next time, I already have April mapped out in my head. And please tell me what you think, I'd love to hear it.**

**Love,**

**Holly, 1/21/3014**


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